


We Don't Reward Bad Behavior

by Perjamensi



Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020), DCU
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Breathplay, Choking, Daddy Kink, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Reader-Insert, Self-Insert, Spanking, eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:48:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23209531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perjamensi/pseuds/Perjamensi
Summary: You watched as Roman abruptly put his paper down and rested his chin on his hands, leaning in closer to hear whatever you had to say next. A clear challenge: Watch your tone, kid.So, you added, "Is that a promise?"In which an argument with your friend puts you in a foul mood, and you need to be set right with some... alternative methods.
Relationships: Roman Sionis/Reader
Kudos: 25





	We Don't Reward Bad Behavior

**Author's Note:**

> Finally taking the plunge and posting fanfiction publically online since... probably 2014ish? Wow. 
> 
> I'm planning on this having a continuation, getting into more of the hurt/comfort aspect but for now, enjoy chapter one!

You _had_ to stop lying to yourself that your partying days were over, because every time you found yourself hungover, there was a snarky little voice in the back of your head that mocked you for your nausea and headache. And that certainly didn't help any of those feelings.

At least you knew where you were. You grabbed at the heavy sheets that twisted around your body - expensive things, like everything else in Roman Sionis' bedroom. You fumbled with them for a moment, huffing as you couldn't figure out how to detangle them from yourself. After a couple more minutes’ worth of effort, you finally were able to kick them off and stand, finding yourself in a set of matching pajamas you'd never seen before. They fit you perfectly, though, and you chuckled at that. Things like this rarely surprised you anymore.

You rubbed at your eyes for a moment before venturing out of the room, eventually finding Roman sat at his dining table, breakfast set out in front of him and newspaper in hand. He glanced up as you approached. 

"Slept it off?" he asked, the question answered immediately when you winced slightly at the volume of his voice. "Ah. Well, have something to eat, anyway."

A spot at the table was set across from him, and you took your seat, digging right in. The greasy breakfast foods settled your stomach some, and the water helped with your head.

"So, what was it you were so worked up about last night? Remind me," Roman said, not looking up from his paper. You scowled slightly into your food; with the clearing of his head came clearer memories of the night before. Arguing with your best friend. Slamming the door of your apartment on the way out. Making your way to the Black Mask Club and drinking the night away... the jury was still out on the details of _that_ segment. You remembered running into Roman himself, though, and being invited to stay the night. Surely you’d looked a mess. You definitely did now, save for the fancy pajamas.

"Mm. Still in a fuss, then," Roman continued, snapping you back to reality. In response, you huffed, indigent.

"Now, now," Roman chided, waggling one finger in the air. You noted with slight amusement he had sense not to wear his monogrammed gloves at breakfast. "Your chums might tolerate these moods, but I certainly won't. I'm doing you a favor."

You scowled at the slight dig, and Roman added, "Keep it up and I'll really give you something to cry about."

"Didn't even cry," you muttered to yourself. You watched as Roman abruptly put his paper down and rested his chin on his hands, leaning in closer to hear whatever you had to say next. A clear challenge: _Watch your tone, kid._

So, you added, "Is that a _promise?_ " and next you knew, you were being yanked up from your seat and promptly pressed against the nearest wall. You now noted the numerous rings on Roman's fingers as they pressed into the side of your face, cheeks squished painfully against flesh and stone.

"Don't worry, doll," Roman snarled, other hand making quick work of yanking your pants down. The elastic band offered zero resistance, and you suddenly noticed your underwear was nowhere to be found. That bastard. "I know _just_ the thing to fix up that vile mood of yours. You wouldn't stop bitching about this last night, bet you've forgotten that, huh? Wouldn't be put down to bed like a good little boy. But I knew better. And I know even better now."

A low whine escaped your throat as the hand on your face pressed in harder, and the other prodded between your legs. You instinctively clamped them together.

"Now, now," Roman murmured, shifting his hand from your face to wrap around your throat. "That won't do." He gripped hard, lifting you to your tiptoes, causing both your mouth and legs to fall open. "Good boy, sweet boy. Nasty, _nasty_ thing. That's right, open up for your daddy."

A few firm swats against your ass coaxed another whine from you, awkward and gargled around the hand on your neck. The noise seemed to agree with Roman, who tightened his grip further as he continued, “Think you can behave long enough to get yourself back to bed?”

Just as you thought you’d go fully limp in his grasp, lack of air making the corners of your vision fuzz up, he let go of your neck, your legs suddenly shocked into supporting your weight. You stumbled, pants tangled around your ankles and mind feeling just as twisted up. Roman steadied you with surprisingly gentle hands. You took the moment to breathe a sigh of relief, smiling at him before bending to fix the fabric around your legs.

This was, apparently, the wrong move to make. A hand was on your neck as fast as it’d been removed a moment ago, now gripping the back, pulling you towards him as a mother cat picks up a kitten by the scruff. You were able to kick the pants from your feet as he stalked off, yanking you with him. There wasn’t a lot of time to think until you were shoved face-first down onto his bed, immediately becoming swallowed by the blankets you’d thrown about on the mattress.

“Left this a mess, too?” you heard Roman mutter from above and behind you. You listened as he moved away from you, slippered feet _plapp_ ing against the floor, but you knew better than to move a muscle. Just barely, you slowly let out a breath you didn’t even realize you’d been holding. “Messing up my things, fucking typical…”

You fidgeted with the sheets in front of you a bit, letting out what you hoped was a pitiful noise, something submissive and high. You started to smooth them down with your hands as you stayed right where you’d been placed, legs hanging awkwardly off the mattress, ass exposed to the cool air. And, wow, you’d been doing so incredibly good at ignoring your bare, stiff cock, ever since your pants were removed; but the longer it took for Roman to return to your side, the more you wanted to shift your hips against the smooth sheets, for any friction, something.

When he finally did, a merciful chill dragged along your stinging bottom and before you could discern if that was... what, an ice cube?... it was pressed against your asshole. It was like the cold shot down to your toes, and as you arched as well as you could away from the intrusion, it was held more insistently to you.

You had a sudden and vivid memory of those cylindrical ice sticks your mom would put in your water bottles as a kid at summer camp. The realization somehow felt stranger than anything you’d ever done with this man. Great.

Said cylindrical ice stick was definitely thinner than one of your own fingers, but it stung in an odd new way as it slipped inside you. You yelped, scrambling away further, and you heard a long-suffering sigh from above you.

Three quick slaps came down in quick succession, causing you to squeak again but you held yourself in place. “Better,” Roman muttered above you, the last cold remnants of the ice fading as two fingers pressed against your opening. Your mouth fell open in a silent gasp, eyes closing in preparation for the friction. You never understood why people thought things like shower sex were hot; water was a horrid lubricant.

And so you pressed your head to the sheets as Roman pressed two fingers in you down to the knuckle, then slowly worked them in and out, the pull dangerous and delicious. Some small voice in the back of your mind mused that this was actually merciful - you were no stranger to the violent things that could happen in this bedroom, especially with both occupants in a mood - but you didn’t have much will to dwell on it as Roman’s free hand landed another smack on your ass.

“Good boy,” he said, his voice hushed. There was no time for comfort yet, however, as he grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked your head back so you could just barely roll your eyes back far enough to see him. “Finally behaving for me now, huh?” His fingers left you and that hand caressed up your neck, making you cringe at the sticky texture they left there. He smiled, wide and showy, seeing you squirm. “Consequences, doll, consequences.”

He shifted away from you, and you still dared not to move from your spot, your _place_ , especially as you heard the unmistakable pop of a small, plastic bottle being opened. You were rewarded for all your patience by the just-as-familiar feeling of Roman’s cock pressing up against you, and you just knew the bastard was taking his sweet time lining up. He knew how hard you were by now, and you both knew that you knew better than to try to do anything about it. That your release came on his terms. Just thinking about it made you shudder, feet to forehead.

Your hands grabbed at the sheets once more as Roman rocked forward, his hands grabbing your hips at the same time to pull you back onto him. He set a quick pace, rough and uneven, and this time you did gasp, forehead pressed to the bed and mouth hung open. You were probably going to droll onto the expensive fabric. You were definitely already leaking precum onto it.

If you had to face the fallout from that later, you welcomed it.

You did your best to angle your hips for the barest chance of friction on your prostate, but the large hands on your hips kept you mostly still. You whined again, but you’re sure it went unnoticed; it wouldn’t have mattered, anyway.

Several moments and obscenities now grunted into your ear later, you finally, _finally_ sighed as one hand moved from your hip to around your cock. Roman jerked you at a similar pace as he fucked you, sporadic and rough and so, so incredibly hot. His other hand once again found its way to your neck as he whispered in your ear, “So good, so _fucking_ good, doing as you’re told, taking this for me… _so_ good….”

He gripped down, the moans you didn’t notice that’d been spilling from your lips now gargles and coughs, as you felt yourself reaching your peak. You tried to gasp out something, some sort of plea or demand, but you were sure you babbled nonsense as you came undone under Roman. You went limp, the hand around your neck keeping you uncomfortably held up as you continued getting fucked, Roman’s hips stuttering a moment later and he finished inside you. You were finally let down onto the mattress, immediately moving to curl up to the other man as he settled beside you.

You lazily traced patterns against the side of his torso until he shifted you to lay on your stomach, his fingers ghosting over the red flesh of your ass. One finger dipped shallow into your hole, smearing his cum for a moment before you were slowly shaking off the haze of the session.

“...okay, hold on, this is… gross.”

You sat up, trying to look down in vain at what you assumed was still stuck against your neck. Roman stayed lying back, but blinked once, twice, before responding, “Hm. You’re right. What was I thinking?”

You waited for him to go on, but he practically twiddled his thumbs before raising his eyebrows at you and adding, “What? Go get yourself cleaned up.”

“But you--”

“Yes, and?”

You were able to read the tone - insistent, but not cruel. In no way willing to budge, like a kid “compromising” on which of his toys he’d share that day. It was almost endearing, in a way. As much as a man who called himself Black Mask could be considered cute.

At least, whatever tension you’d been feeling, and thus caused more of, earlier in the morning had apparently been worked out through his dick in your ass. You sighed, and made your way towards the bathroom. The argument you’d had with your friend the night before was starting to creep its way back into your head, and you’d kill for another reason to have it distracted back out.

Well, you knew you wouldn’t have to _kill_ for it.

Waiting to make sure Roman was looking up, wondering why you hadn’t scampered off to do as he asked yet, you dragged one finger against the slick on your neck and dragged it slowly down the doorframe. You watched as his eyes narrowed as you shut the door behind you.

Yup, you were absolutely going to welcome the fallout.


End file.
